by Alexandra Lunn-Greep
Moss
Pour yourself a drink, put on some lipstick, and pull yourself together.
-Elizabeth Taylor
Are you gonna let your dragons fly? I ask myself
as I walk on the holy rocks of rain.
The moss turf under my feet
binds wounds on this ridged earth.
The intimacy of so much beauty
reminds me of Aunt Themetra’s fireplace in the mountains
the hearth covered in dry moss clinging to the flagstones.
When she spritzes the moss with water
the consecrated moment of transubstantiation
tolls bells bears wings
from stone to mystic fairy lands.
The damp green felt mounds into colonies netted in mystery.
In this moment the hierarchy of beauty tumbles
from grand aspens to micro plush worlds
where stones speak the common language of water.
Nothing is ever all the way dead I tell myself.
This Dolce Vita lipstick is a living mulch
a little plumping for the cells.
The rains will always come again
keeping the moss spongy
in this chaos of loss
in this Queendom of green
underneath everything.
Stephanie K. Merrill is a Pushcart Prize nominee whose poems have been published or are forthcoming in The Rise Up Review, Sage Cigarettes Magazine, Feral: A Journal of Poetry and Art, UCity Review, Moist Poetry Journal, Amethyst Review, and elsewhere. Stephanie K. Merrill is a retired high school English teacher. She lives in Austin, Texas.
Alexandra Lunn-Greep: Alongside taking photographs (as a complete amateur) Alexandra thoroughly thrives and grows immersing herself in nature, music, painting, gardening, dancing, writing and singing. In this present moment, she is a dedicated full time single mum of twins Gem and Ini who will be turning seven soon. She is beautifully supported by her family and friends, and works part time as a Forest School Leader. After living and working in Europe from 2010-2016, a spiritual awakening and self-evolution started and only continued since then. She speaks basic Spanish and Dutch and loves to travel with her children.